


Revolving, Evolving

by aye_of_newt



Series: Vague AU [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (brief) Aftermath of Violence, (brief) Description of Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Addiction, Gen, Implied Attempted Suicide, but like 99 precent angst, except he's so expanded he's practically an oc, less graphic than the show honestly, the rehab employee from the very beginning of episode one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aye_of_newt/pseuds/aye_of_newt
Summary: For fourteen years, the only constant (living) person in Klaus' life was a staff member at his rehab facility.This is an account of Klaus' story from his eyes.





	1. Revolving

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this story takes place pre-canon. In chapter two, there will be one scene post-season one that takes place in my Vague AU, but it's not necessary to have read the first work in this series for things to make sense. 
> 
> The Vague AU follows canon except (SPOILERS FOR EPISODE TEN) :  
> 1) Vanya doesn't destroy the house and  
> 2) they save the world without becoming kids.  
> \+ additional backstory as I add it  
> I may write the story of how the apocalypse didn't happen at a later date but for right now just assume that it was through the healing power of ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT OUR FEELINGS. So now all the Hargreeves live together again and are working on learning how to be functioning humans/helping Vanya figure out her powers.

2006

When John was twenty-six and full of optimism, he landed his dream job working in a rehab facility, bursting with confidence in his shiny new psychology degree and his ability to make a difference. He meet Klaus for the first time four months later, early enough into his career that he hadn’t quite lost all of his faith, though some of his enthusiasm had been curbed by the mass of empty eyes and broken bodies.

Klaus looked nothing like the rest of the addicts that had passed through. He was a skinny and awkward seventeen-year-old, who chattered away about everything and to everyone, including himself. Just a kid who hadn’t quite grown into his body yet, Klaus didn’t need to be high to trip over his own feet. His enormous eyes were shiny and bright even when sober, and his wide grin, full of whole and undamaged teeth, was still childlike in its excitement.

John heard from the night staff that the kid had nightmares, but that was hardly unusual, so did almost everyone else in rehab. From what John could tell, beyond ending up in treatment, there was nothing particularly _wrong_ with Klaus, and he seemed to be one of those easy cases John had always been warned didn’t exist. Watching the kid attempt a handstand in the common room, John felt his hope spark again. _This is someone I can help,_ he thought.

Sure that Klaus was a nothing more than a good kid who’d gotten a little lost, for those first thirty days John went home each night feeling satisfied that he was finally making an impact. In group, the kid nodded along seriously during their discussions about making good choices, and he swore up and down he was going keep himself clean when he got out. At his discharge, John handed Klaus his sobriety chip with pride and smiled as he watched him walk out the door.

As Klaus gave one last wave over his shoulder, John imagined for a moment a older and more mature Klaus, graduating with his own PhD and writing to John to thank him for being the inspiration Klaus need to turn his life around pursue his own career in helping people beat addiction.

It didn’t quite work out that way.

 

2008

The second time Klaus showed up at the center, he was nineteen and somehow thinner than the first time John had meet him. His big eyes were smudged with the same eyeliner, but now there were deep bags underneath that made it hard to tell where the makeup ended and his skin began. He hair was wild, and not in the same intentional way it had been when he was seventeen. Now it just looked like it had been too long since the kid had used a comb, or taken a shower for that manner.

When he noticed John staring at him, Klaus grinned and silently lifted one had. _Hello,_ his palm said.

It was a blow for John. Two years in the clinic had been long enough that he had lost most of his allusions about the promises adicts made, but he’d always hoped that not seeing Klaus was a good sign. _He was such a good kid,_ John thought pointlessly.

_What the hell are you doing to yourself?_ he wanted to ask.

“I hope that’s not permanent,” was what came out instead.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Klaus grinned mischievously.

_You have no idea,_ John thought dully, grimacing.

At his release a few weeks later, John handed over the chip with somewhat less confidence than he had two years ago. “Stay _clean,_ Klaus,” he urged seriously. “Fun as you are, I don’t want to see you here again, ok?” John searched Klaus’ face for any indication that he was getting through.

“Roger that,” Klaus grinned, giving him a lazy salute. Watching him leave, John reasoned with the universe that he didn’t care if Klaus got his PhD, so long as he didn’t end up back in rehab.

***

The universe was a real bitch.

Klaus was back less than two months later, having the decency to look at least a little sheepish under John’s disappointed gaze.

“Last time, I promise,” Klaus put his hand over his heart seriously. “I just forgot my sweater and had to come back for it.” He grinned at John, who didn’t return the expression.

“Whatever you say, Klaus,” he sighed.

That time, he wasn’t working when Klaus was discharged. It was something of a relief.

 

 

2009

The fourth time Klaus was in rehab, he came in a little quieter than usual. He didn’t quite meet John’s eyes in the hallway, staring down at the tiles instead.

“So you’re back again,” John commented flatly. “Just missing us here I’m sure?” he joked blandly, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Klaus gave a stiff laugh. “Got it in one!” He looked at John long enough to wink suggestively before his face fell again, his eyes falling back to the floor.

“I’ve got rounds to do. I’ll see you around Klaus,” John told him, staring to walk away.

“I—,” Klaus started, “I _did_ try you know.”

John turned to see Klaus hadn’t moved, his back still to John and his eyes on the floor. He looked ashamed for the first time since John had met him more than three years ago.

“I know.”

***

The next time Klaus entered, he seemed to be making a point of compensating for his last arrival, bursting into the clinic dressed in a lime green boa and leather pants so tight John was convinced he was only allowed to wear them because no one could get the damn things off. Klaus called out greetings to the staff and residents he recognized, blowing kisses in his usual dramatic flair.

He didn’t stop smiling at John’s unresponsive stare, but he was cowed into quieting down at least.

That night, as he watched Klaus heave long after his stomach was emptied of its meager contents, hunched over and covered in sweat and shaking, John felt the same helpless range he’d battled for years, always at a loss for how to reconcile the brilliant, vibrant person who had walked into his clinic and the empty shell the drugs had left behind.

 

2010

“Why’d you do it Klaus?” John asked tiredly, wondering if there was even a point in questioning why someone would chase half a bottle of oxy with vodka.

“Come on, John,” Klaus said flippantly, “Everyone goes a little wild on their twenty-first birthday.” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

***

When he saw Klaus sitting in hallway, John almost didn’t recognize him. The side of his face that was turned towards him was painted purple with bruises, and a chunk of his hair had been shaved away for the doctors to put in stitches. They stood out against his pale skull like a fat black caterpillar, a ridge of spiky thread over an inch long. His clothes were clearly too big, the sleeves of his jacket almost covering his hands, but even under the folds of fabric, John could see Klaus was smaller than the last time he’d seen him. _Lose anymore weight, Klaus,_ John thought, _and you’ll float away._

At the sound of his approaching footsteps, Klaus startled, trying desperately to look out of the corner of his eye and panicking more as he still couldn’t see. He let out a whine of pain as he shifted his head slightly, his hands gripping the arms of the chair.

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” John said quickly, though quietly. “It’s just me, Klaus.” He stepped into view, holding his hands up in the universal sign of being unarmed. Klaus blinked quickly, his breath still shaky as he appeared to try and calm himself. As he shifted his head again, John caught a glimpse of more bruising around his neck before it was hidden again by his collar. “Jesus,” he breathed before he could stop himself. Klaus looked away, swallowing.

That stay was the quietest the floor had ever been while Klaus was a resident. He barely spoke during the weeks he was there, and even the others seemed subdued. Those that knew him from before watched Klaus with pity, and the newer faces in fear.

The only assurance John had that Klaus’ vocal cords weren’t damaged came from the night staff. From what they said, he was still perfectly capable of making the entire center hear him.

John wasn’t sure if the nightmares were “back”, so much as Klaus and found a whole lot of new material.

***

Klaus had more or less returned to himself by the time he was brought in again, and John was so relieved he was almost glad to see him.

 

2011-2013

The relapses eventually began to bleed together, falling into a pattern of predictability that even someone as unpredictable as Klaus couldn’t avoid.

After the first few years, John became numb to the revolving door of Klaus’ residency. Watching Klaus stumble in just months after his last visit, John thought helplessly, _Whoever said that addicts aren’t reliable had no idea what they were talking about._

 

2014

Klaus had never been especially serious during therapy sessions, but when he gave up on even pretending to pay attention, keeping his nose pressed into the pages a book instead, John couldn’t let it slide any longer. When he confronted Klaus, the kid, as John still thought of him sometimes, didn’t bother to look up, muttering, “This is therapy. I’m contemplating the effects of my childhood on my current self-destructive tendencies toward detachment and recklessness.”

John bought his own copy and a lot of things started to make sense.

 

2016

It was the book that came to mind some odd relapse later, when John caught Klaus sitting in the bathroom with the lights out, begging the empty air to leave him alone.

“Klaus?” he called hesitantly. It took several repeats, each louder than the last, to get his attention. When Klaus’ head finally snapped up, John could see his eyes were red from something besides weed. “Are you ok? Do you need to talk about—”

“Oh it’s terrible!” Klaus cried dramatically, shooting to his feet, “I can NOT find my nail polish _anywhere,_ and I’m supposed to be getting out of here tomorrow. You can’t expect me to go out in the world and become respectable with my cuticles looking like _this,_ can you?” he asked, waving his hand lazily under John’s nose. His pitch was off and there was a slight shake in Klaus’ hands, but seeing the slightly desperate look in his eyes, John decided to ignore it.

“Can I help you look?”

Klaus beamed. “Thank you, darling,” he called as he swished dramatically out the door. “I know it’s around here somewhere, unless old Bobby _stole_ it again.”

Fifteen minutes later, Klaus ‘found’ the polish tucked under his pillow, exactly where he had left it.

“Someone’s conscious must have gotten the better of them,” he told John seriously.

“Probably,” he agreed, excusing himself to go take care of some paperwork.

“Hey, John,” Klaus called as he neared the door. John turned.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Klaus whispered, sounding more genuine than he had in several years.

“You’re welcome.”

 

2019

The last time he checked Klaus out, John barely had the energy to go through the motions, having all but made his peace with Klaus’ death years before.

“We’ll see you soon Klaus,” he said tiredly, flipping Klaus his latest chip. “Say sober!” he called after him, mirroring Klaus’ shaking head as he watched him kiss his chip in an empty promise.

There was absolutely nothing unusual about it.

Except that he never came back.


	2. Evolving

 

For the first couple of months, John didn’t really notice Klaus’ absence, too busy trying to keep up with the flood of endless residents to think about someone who wasn’t there. 

After three months, the thought crossed his mind while touching up the paint in the bedrooms. He had taken down one of the inspirational posters to paint behind it and found a scribbling of graffiti done in pencil. The drawing was a childish cartoon, but still recognizable as Klaus, even without the arrow labeling him. John didn't recognize the other kid in the picture, though Klaus had helpfully identified him as “Ben”.

For reasons he didn’t quite understand, John put the poster back up, leaving the drawing undisturbed. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see that part of the wall anyway.

***

After five months, Klaus’ absence began to nag at John. While he’d gone longer between stays before, they had become more frequent over time. Now, it was unusual for more than a dozen or so weeks to pass without John at least catching a glimpse of Klaus at clean needle programs, or to hear from one of the vice cops that they’d spotted him hanging around downtown again. 

He asked the regulars, who for all their faults were usually honest about the people they’d seen recently. No one had run into Klaus, dead or alive, since a few days after his last stay, though the man could confirm Klaus had been buying then.

Someone else mentioned a rave where they thought they’d seen him passed out, but, she admitted, she was pretty out of it at the time and could have been mistaken.

Fourteen years ago, John would have believed that no news was good news, and taken it as a sign of hope that Klaus had finally gotten clean. Having learned since then what a disappearance like Klaus’ usually meant, an unpleasant pit began to form in his stomach. 

As a side effect of his job, John usually kept an eye on the obituaries, but he began to scan them twice, just to make sure.

 

***

Eight months after he last saw Klaus, John went down to the station to flip through the files of the unclaimed dead. The rehab clinic usually got updated by the department when one of their residents was found, usually identified by their old mug shots, but he couldn’t help the urge to double check. 

When there was nothing, John wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or not.

***

After ten months, John accepted that Klaus was gone. It was a reality that he had come to expect years ago. Even so, his long anticipation did nothing to prevent the sick feeling John got when he considered that, despite knowing how often addicts disappeared, John had always imagined that when the inevitable happened, there would at least be a body to bury. 

He hadn’t imagined that he would feel so lost.

***

It’s been just over a year since Klaus walked out of rehab for the last time that John sees a giant exiting a cafe. He stands what seems to be at least seven feet tall, his shoulders nearly twice the breadth of John’s own. Even the large overcoat he wears is unable to disguise that his bulk is all muscle, and if John were any less of a skeptic, he might have wondered if the man was human. 

The sight is so unusual, John might have missed the giant’s companion if he hadn’t been hanging off of the man’s enormous bicep. Compared to the his mass, the tugging hands look like a child’s. But when John follows the line of the arms, he finds himself looking at full-grown, though rather skinny, man. Finally turning his gaze to the skinny man’s face, John has his second cardiac shock in less than two minutes. There, looking perfectly alive and sporting the same playfully pleading expression that John had seen a hundred times before, was Klaus.  It is so unexpected and illogical that John might have thought he was mistaken if it weren’t for the voices that carried to him.

“Come  _ on _ , Luther,  _ please _ ? It will take five minutes! I swear.”

“No, Klaus. We are not getting ice cream right now. We literally  _ just _ finished lunch.”

“Well I didn’t say  _ you _ had to eat any. It’s not my fault if you didn’t save room.”

Their bickering continues but John can’t seem to hear it over the suddenly deafening sound of blood pounding through his veins. He stands rooted to the spot, staring, until the giant finally rolls his eyes and mutters something that makes Klaus let go of his arm to whoop with joy. Hiss hands,  _ Hello, Good Bye,  _ are  lifted triumphantly, and his smile so familiar to the seventeen-year-old John once knew. They start to turn, walking in the opposite direction, and before John realizes it he is shouting and running after them.

“Klaus! Klaus!”

The men stop and turn around, Klaus looking confused and the giant concerned. John stops short an arm’s reach from Klaus, whose expression turns to recognition. Realizing he doesn’t have a plan, John repeats, “Klaus.”

He smiles. “Hey, John. Long time no see.”

If John weren’t so relieved he’d be pissed at the casual greeting. 

“Where have you been?” he asks, a little more forcefully than he intended.

“Oh, you know, around,” Klaus replies. 

“Around?!”  _ Ok so maybe I am a little pissed _ , John thought, seeing Klaus flinch slightly. 

“Hold on,” the giant interrupts, “Who are you?” He had moved forward, putting himself slightly between John and Klaus, looking on the verge of getting angry. John took a few hasty steps back, raising his hands non-threateningly. 

“Whoa, Luther, it’s fine,” Klaus gently lowered the giant’s arm with his hand. “This is John. We  _ like _ John.” he explains in a patronizing voice, patting the man’s arm. Looking back at John he adds, “John works at the rehab facility I used to go to.” He offers a weak smile, “We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

The giant, or Luther rather, looks slightly embarrassed and very uncomfortable. He opens his mouth to say something but Klaus cuts him off, asking “Give us a minute?”

Luther snaps his jaw shut and takes a few steps back, still watching John with a semi-untrusting gaze. Klaus rolls his eyes and closes the gap between him and John, taking his elbow and guiding him off to the side, out of the way of the people trying to use the sidewalk. Suddenly unable to fully meet John’s gaze, Klaus repeats, “Hey.”

“Where have you been, Klaus?” John echos too, more gently than before. 

Klaus tries to brush it off, saying, “Like I said, I’ve been around. You know, here, there—”

“Klaus!” John cuts him off, losing his temper again. He sees Luther tense up but finds he doesn’t care. “I thought you were dead! You disappear for a  _ year, _ with literally _no one_ seeing you or hearing anything from you? I thought you overdosed and were lying dead in a ditch or an alleyway or worse! And all you have to say is ‘I’ve been around’! Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?” He shouts, shaking Klaus slightly by the arms. Klaus stares at him with wide eyes. 

“No,” he whispers. “I didn’t.” 

His anger suddenly evaporated, John pulls Klaus roughly into a hug. Squeezing him, he warns, “Just don’t do that again. Ok?”

“Ok,” Klaus agrees timidly, pulling back. John can see that he’s blushing slightly, looking embarrassed by the attention for once. Now recovered slightly from the shock, John looks Klaus over more thoroughly than before.

“You look good,” he tells him in surprise. And it’s true. He’s still skinny, but Klaus looks healthier than he had in years. His skin has a living color to it, his hair is washed, and his clothes, though still a wild combination of fashions, look newer than anything John can remember seeing him wear. 

Klaus shifts awkwardly, “Thanks,” he mutters. There is a beat of silence before he adds, “I’m clean.”

As good as Klaus looks, John is still shocked. “Really?” he asks and Klaus nods, not quite looking at him. 

“Yeah, seems like you finally got through to me, huh? Here, look,” he says, digging through his pocket and pulling out a small coin. He holds it up, smiling somewhat shyly. “One year.”

The small coin begins to swim as John stares at it, his eyes growing damp. It’s quiet for a long moment before Klaus asks hesitantly, “Um, John?”

“I am so proud of you, Klaus,” John interrupts him, looking back at Klaus’ face. The surprise is evident in his expression. Klaus blinks as John continues, “That must have taken an incredible amount of work, and I am so proud of you for not giving up.”

Klaus’ eyes are looking damp as well. “Thank you,” he chokes out. 

“How did you do it?” he can’t help but ask, needing to know what he had been doing wrong for so many years that Klaus only got sober when John  _ wasn’t  _ there. 

“My family,” Klaus gestures behind him vaguely to where Luther still waited, looking concerned, though calm, “We...started working some things out".

“Good,” John tells him kindly, firmly.  _ Addiction is almost impossible to beat without a support system, _ the words of his old training materials echoes through John’s head.

Klaus is opening his mouth to say something else when John’s phone goes off. 

“Shit,” he mutters. “Klaus, I’m sorry but—”

“Your shift is starting soon,” he finishes. “I remember.”

“Of course.” John hesitates for a moment longer, the two looking at each other, each with too many things to say and lacking the time to even figure out how to begin. “Take care of yourself, Klaus. Ok?” John urges gently, searching Klaus’ face.

“I will,” Klaus promises quietly, and for the first time in almost fifteen years, John believes him. He pulls Klaus in for one last firm hug, and the kid, the man, whispers again, “ _ Thank you _ ,” and John understands that he means for more than just today. 

“Bye, Klaus,” he says, drawing back. He offers a soft smile. “See you around.”

“See you around,” he echoes, slowly turning away to join his brother. 

John watches for a moment as Klaus walks away. Just before he turns the corner, Klaus looks back, throwing John one last smile, and holding up his hand.  _ Good bye. _

“Good bye, Klaus” John whispers to himself, turning to cross the street. He arrives at work fifteen minutes late and feeling more energized that he has in years. When people find out what John does, the first question they tend to ask is if his job is worth it. And almost every day, as he watches lives and people come part in front of his eyes, John asks himself the same thing. 

 

Today, the answer was  _ yes. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, we finally got to the happy ending 
> 
> Shoutout to those of you who guessed what was going to happen correctly! (Though it wasn't really that big of a plot twist I guess. I'm no Agatha Christie.) I hope this lived up to everyone's expectations.  
> Thank you again to everyone who has read, left kudos, and bookmarked. And an especially big thanks to those of you who have commented! You have all been so lovely!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: There is now a "deleted scene" from this work called [Stagnating](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968376)

**Author's Note:**

> Please note, I do not believe that rehab is pointless or that addicts are bad people. I just think that Klaus has a lot of issues that a normal rehab facility is not equipped to handle.  
> If you or someone you love is struggling with drug addiction or alcoholism please contact the National Drug Hotline at 1-888-633-3239  
> Or go online to drug-help-line .org (remove dashes/spaces)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I've never been to rehab so everything is probably wrong about this. If you know more than me please feel free to tell me what I need to fix. Hopefully nothing is too off because I was purposefully vague. (That's kinda my thing.)
> 
> Chapter Two is pretty much done so it will be released soon. Thanks for reading!


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